A Wrong World
by lada1988
Summary: Something is wrong with the world. Liz, Red, and Dembe remain the only possible survivors of a deadly outbreak that has turned everyone into zombies. Can all three of them survive? Zombie AU, RedxLiz. Should I continue if anyone is interested?


Elizabeth shivered uncontrollably as she slapped a hand over her mouth to stop herself from breathing too loudly. She needed to stay as quiet as she possibly could before Tom found out where she was hiding. She lay as still as she could under the bed on her stomach, Hudson the dog whining softly beside her while he hid under the bed with her.

She made out Tom's dirty, blood and dirt smeared shoes as he passed around the room, moaning.

This morning had started out like every other morning. Tom had woken her rudely by flinging the curtains open while she was in bed, letting the bright and early morning light in to assault her eyelids. She had grumbled and tossed and turned, and he had told her he was going out to put out the rubbish and that she didn't need to worry about making herself a cup of coffee- he was already on it. But when she got dressed and ready for the day, she went downstairs and saw that when Tom had returned back inside, he wasn't the man he was before.

Glasses askew, he was pale-faced and hollow-eyed, with a large, weeping gash in his neck. He had been bitten by something- something Elizabeth had been unsure about, at first. Her body had rippled in fear as Tom tilted his head to the side as he looked at her, staring at her, but not really seeing her. The glistening in his eyes was gone. They appeared dull and lifeless. Empty.

Thick gunks of black blood pulsed from the wound in his neck, staining the collar of his shirt, and Elizabeth had felt goose-pimples riding up along her forearms and nape of her neck.

"Oh my God, babe," she very nearly had shouted in shock, approaching him slowly. "Are you okay? We really need to get you to a hospital. What happened to you?"

When she was a width away from him, her hands outstretched towards him, Liz smelled something funny. It was a smell coming from Tom, an unpleasant odour of blood and death; the smell of road-kill, or a dead corpse. It was then it had occured to her that something was seriously wrong with him.

She had ran to the phone to call 911. The phone had been disconnected. She tried her cell, and that was as well. Then when Hudson had appeared in the room, even he was wary of Tom. Usually Hudson liked the two of them equally, but he hadn't this morning. His teeth had bared as he growled protectively at Liz's leg, his ears back, back of his fur stiff and up. Tom had simply looked down at the noise coming from the dog blankly- God, his eyes had looked so different, so lacking of light and emotion- then he had moved jerkily, suddenly, like a cat pouncing to get at her. Hudson had barked him off as Liz raced upstairs, her body full of adrenaline, her heart pounding.

She had just only retreated into the bedroom again and was about to slam the door when Hudson slipped in through the crack, his tail beating furiously. Which left them to where they were now, hiding under the unmade bed, with daylight streaming in and Tom pacing back and forth around the room. His movements were slow and stiff, and she saw the way he kept tripping and stumbling over his own shoes.

Something was terribly wrong. Something had happened outside, in the world, that she didn't know of yet.

All she could think of, through the adrenaline racing in her body unpleasantly, was Red. Did Red know himself what was going on? There was one thing she was certain of, in that moment. She had to find Red- or, somehow, he had to find her, if he could. She prayed to God that whatever had happened to Tom hadn't happened to Red as well.

* * *

Red was just tucking his shirt in his trousers hurriedly, when he heard someone swipe their card into the hotel room, granting them access. He had spent last night playing a very challenging game of chess with Dembe, the pair of them drinking out their frustrations with a few glasses of pure scotch.

Red's temples were throbbing from a terrible hang-over, and he felt dizzy as he sat on the edge of the bed and started pulling on his Italian, hand-made loafers. He was just tying his shoelaces when Dembe made himself known, his movements quick and panicked. Somehow, despite having drank more glasses of scotch than Red had, Dembe hardly looked as if he was suffering from a hangover in the slightest.

"Is everything ready and good to go, Dembe?" He asked him, once he stood.

Dembe looked a little... off, Red thought with some concern. He seemed as if he wasn't even really there in the moment. But he seemed to shake himself as he blinked at Raymond slowly, seeming to come back to himself again. "Raymond, something is wrong."

"With what?" Red asked, feeling his throat tighten. "With Lizzie? Is she all right?"

"It isn't Agent Keen, Raymond. But it's... today. Traffic is almost non-existent. The streets are quiet, with hardly anybody in sight."

Red raised his eyebrows and squinted at him.

"I think it's best if you see for yourself, Raymond," Dembe said, almost desperately. "You'll understand that way."

"Very well. Shall we hit the road?"

Dembe was right when they were in the car. There was no traffic in sight, with all the roads appearing as if they were deserted. There were no people about either, which was odd for this hour of the morning in Washington D.C. But just as they reached a crossing, at last they saw someone, and Dembe slowed the car to a halt for them to cross the road.

Only it didn't seem as if crossing the road was something the person had in mind. It was a woman, dressed in a bright pink coat and high heels, and she was limping. She changed route from the crossing and started to approach the Mercedes instead, her movements gaited.

"What the hell is she doing?" Red asked out-loud, as she started ambling closer to the windscreen. He heard Dembe chuckle softly in amusement from where he was sitting behind the steering wheel.

"Your guess is as good as mine, Raymond. Maybe we weren't the only ones to get drunk last night?"

"I'll say," Red muttered under his breath. "Do you think she'll try to steal the car?"

"I don't know. All I know is that she would be crazy to try."

For a moment, neither of them spoke, just watched the woman with some surprise as she walked into the front of the car, staggered backwards, then attempted to walk into it again. Then they heard the strange sounds she was making; Gutteral, clicking moans, her body twitching.

"Go around her, Dembe," Red suggested. Dembe did a smart manoeuvre in backing up the car, sending Red's head jolting back, then he pushed down on the accelerator and sped off from the woman. Red turned back in the seat to look at her. The deranged woman had simply just kept walking. "Did you see what I just saw, my friend?" Red asked, making sure he wasn't hallucinating. "Or am I still drunk?"

"Oh, I saw it, Raymond," Dembe laughed nervously. "Strange day."

Red agreed with him there. This morning was turning out to be rather strange. He knew he would feel better once he saw Lizzie. "Go to Lizzie's," Red advised him, "I want to check in, see if she's alright."

They passed a man who was walking near the side of the road, and he looked as if he had been hit by a truck recently. Blood was streaking his shirt and he was dragging his feet.

Red settled more comfortably in the backseat, slipping his sunglasses on. At least he wasn't hallucinating, after all

* * *

Liz was shivering violently as she held onto Hudson, clutching him under her arm tightly so he wouldn't think of moving from their hiding place under the bed. Tom's feet paced back and forth restlessly, his grunts filling the room. She had no idea what was happening, and why Tom was acting so strange.

She couldn't even call anybody, since all lines had been disconnected. All she could do was simply hide and hope, as if Tom was a monster in a horror movie, that he would eventually get bored and go away. She let out a quiet gasp when she saw blood spill onto the floor from Tom's wound. Tom, so unlike himself, ignored it and walked over the blood, smearing it all over the floor unpleasantly with his shoes, as he paced back and forth, his shoes scuffing against the floor.

Then she thought she heard it. Car doors being opened outside the front of her house.

She wanted to shout and scream, make it known that she was inside, but then it would have only risked Tom knowing where she was hiding. He was obviously not being himself right now, and it wasn't something Liz wanted to risk, so with difficulty, she remained quiet.

Then she heard the front door being flung open loudly and she stiffened. She heard the slow grunt Tom gave out at the sound, then she watched with terror, as he turned around in a circle and his feet disappeared towards where the sounds had come from. Sliding her arm off Hudson, she curled her hands into fists and lifted herself up on her elbows, sliding out from under the bed. She turned and glanced outside the window, noticing and recognizing the glossy black car that was parked on her front lawn.

_Dembe. Red._

Rocking unsteadily on her feet, she looked around the room, searching for something she could use as a weapon. The only thing she could think of using was the lamp, so she disconnected it from the power plug and carried it with her, holding it over her head ready to whack Tom over the head, Hudson following reluctantly behind her.

She got out into the hallway, finding Tom staring down the stairs. He grunted and lifted his head, and Liz could hear him sniffing loudly, like a dog. Then he turned to look at her and found her standing there. Nothing passed his expression- he was blank as a slate. Her hands that gripped the lamp shook as he turned and started staggering his way back towards her, his mouth slightly open- baring his teeth, like she was a meal.

"What the hell is going on?" she muttered to herself. "Tom, what is going on with you?"

Red's voice suddenly came from downstairs and her heart leaped, "Lizzie? Are you here?" He shouted, sounding panicked, which was something she wasn't expecting to hear from Reddington. Usually he was calm in an irritating way.

"Try upstairs, Raymond."

_Dembe._

"I'm here," she screamed, and then jolting forward before she lost courage, she lifted her arms as high as they would possibly go over Tom's head, brought the lamp down over his skull with as much pressure as she could, and everything shattered.

Tom made a terrible noise and stumbled backwards into the wall, and she took it as her moment to run. Grabbing Hudson roughly by the collar, she pushed him into following her downstairs, while Tom grunted and groaned.

"I'm here," she cried out, climbing down the stairs two at a time with Hudson following. "Can someone please tell me what is going on?"

As she reached the last step, she fell forward and felt paralyzed as she collided straight into Red, who caught her in his arms just in the nick of time, pulling her close.

"Oh, Red," she whispered, flinging her arms around his neck tightly. Before, she had felt so scared and confused about what was happening, but now, she could only feel relief that Red didn't appear to be like Tom was. Dembe, too. "What's happening? Are you two hurt?"

"We're fine, Lizzie," Red assured her hoarsely, looking her over carefully. "Are _you_ hurt? Please don't tell me you are."

"No, I'm good," she said, shuddering. "Tom's the one that isn't. Something has happened to him. He's not acting right! I don't know what the hell happened, but he-"

Her words were cut-off when Red's hands clutched her face and his lips hit hers, preventing anymore words from coming out. Liz's head was working too much for her to make any sense or to respond in any way, so she just stood there, unmoving. When he pulled back, smoothing the hair out of her face, he took her by the arm and lead her out towards the front door urgently.

Now was not the time for explaining. Something was wrong with the world.


End file.
